Gone
by GKingOfFez
Summary: Tick tock goes the clock, it's nearly the end of the story. Tick tock, goes the clock, 'till the Doctor loses Rory. Character death. One shot.


_Because I am completely convinced that Rory is going to die for good. Mark my words, I tell you! Mark them! *uncontrollable sobbing*_

…

_Tick, tock, goes the clock,_

_It's nearly the end of the story,_

_Tick, tock, goes the clock,_

'_Till the Doctor loses Rory._

…

The clock on the wall is ticking. _Tick, tock, tick, tock_.

A barrel of a gun, an intoxicating smile, and then, 'Goodbye, sweetie."

The world is spinning. Amy is yelling. 'DOCTOR!' _Tap, tap_, and there is running, echoing footsteps, (too fast, much too fast) coming closer, warning of what is to come, and he doesn't stop them because he knows they'll be too late. ('Rory, no! RORY!').

_Bang_ goes the gun, the bullet racing, flying towards him, ready to bury itself into one of his hearts, and bring death, sweet, uncaring death. _Tick, tock. Sigh,_ his eyes close in preparation, arms widened, ears closed, ready to receive his punishment. Instead, _tap tap, grunt,_ and then c_rash_, he is down, startled, on the ground, and somebody is landing on top of him and _why isn't he dead_?

_Groan, _the somebody says, and the Doctor recognises the red cape and the red liquid pouring from the person's chest onto his tweed coat. _Tick, tock_, confusion, and then clarification and then denial. A woman is screaming_,_ 'NO! RORY, NO!', and _tap tap_, red hair flying everywhere, she comes, but too late.

'_No,'_ staring into Rory's eyes, half angry and half frightened, 'What were you thinking?' and the Roman-clad 2000 year old stares back and darkness overcomes that _stupidamazingstupid _man's face.

'I couldn't let you die.'

_Gasp_, and Rory is suddenly very limp on top of him, and gone and gone and _gone_. _Sob_, and Amy is there, _beg_, and she is hitting him, hitting her husband, _hit_, _hit_, _hit_ and _beg_, _beg_, _beg,_ come back. _Come back, come back_, _come back_! But the light is gone from behind Rory's eyes, never to return.

_Thud_, the gun falls to the ground. _Thud_, it's holder is on her knees, and _shuffle_, Rory's murderer comes closer. '_No_,' reaching out, smile very much gone and 'What have I done?' _Slap,_ hand against cheek. 'You killed him!' A is for Amy, anger, _anguish_. Blurred, everything. Reds and blacks and curly blondes, all swirling together. And Rory is lying limp on top of him. _Tick, tock._

_You killed him, killed him, killed him. _

R is for Rory, red, restrain. _Struggle, twist, sob_. A thin white arm within his hands to stop it from lunging for the dropped gun and _Rory is still on top of him. Thump, roll,_ and now Rory is on the floor, limp and still and limp and dead. A thin white arm is in his grip while the other holds Rory's dead hand. He sits up and gathers his arms around the white body attached to the arm, holding it close. Red hair is in his face as he stares with eyes as dead as Rory at the murderer. _Tick tock._

R is also for River. 'I killed him.' Cold, sharp, self-hating. Emptiness. 'The best man I ever knew, and I killed him. What have I done?'

_Whisper,_ lies. His fault, always, always his fault. _Tick tock._ 'No._ I_ killed him.' Silence, realisation. _Tick tock. _He's going to have to find a new name now. Amy grows still, as still as limp, dead Rory. Blood. He's covered in blood, physically and metaphorically. Rory's blood. Emptiness. Silence.

_Silence_, he sits in it, revels in it. _Silence_, all around him. He knows Amy is waiting again, waiting for her Rory to return to her, like he always does, but this time there is no tricks or ifs or buts. No Dream Lord, no Crack, no auton, no Big Bang two. No blank guns, or CPR or House or little boys. Gone, gone, gone, Rory is _gone_. _Tick tock._

And he sits in Silence while Time passes by, breaking him apart piece by piece because Rory is gone and he killed him. Amy's red hair is in his face and Rory's red blood is on his clothes, while the weight of the body is still upon him. And River is crying, and blaming, while Rory is gone, gone, _gone_.

And the clock on the wall _tick tocks_, counting away the seconds without Rory. _Tick, tock, tick, tock._


End file.
